Some Nights
by Georgia Dominguez
Summary: Demetria di Angelo likes to think she's cursed. It's almost like the universe is out to get her. She didn't believe in zombies or an apocalypse — both happened simultaneously. After everything fell, Demetria wanted to believe she could trust people — she quickly discarded that belief. The list could go on. Demetria likes to think she's cursed. Nothing seems to go her way. Ever.


_There are some nights I hold to every note I ever wrote_  
 _Some nights, I say, "Fuck it all!" Stare at the calendar_  
 _Waiting for catastrophes, imagining they'd scare me_  
 _Into changing whatever it is I am changing into_

-Some Nights; **from fun.**

* * *

"Look, it's no big deal, it's just some _stupid_ virus." Demetria paused, waiting for her mother, Bianca, to finish. "You _know_ I'm good on all my shots, mom. Really, you shouldn't. . ." A deep sigh left the twenty four year old's mouth. For the past month and a half, Bianca was calling Demetria up about some new bug that was going around. It was a new kind of sickness, the kind no one had ever seen before. People were getting sick left and right, but that didn't bother Demetria in the slightest. She wasn't too concerned about it; Bianca, on the other hand, _was_. Very unsurprising, really. "Mom, look, I've got to go," Demetria sighed, running her hand over her forehead. "I'll be fine this weekend. I'm with Rochelle, remember?. . . _Yes_ , we'll be sticking together. Quit worrying so much."

After a quick goodbye, Demetria was finally able to hang up her phone. Sighing, she threw the device onto her bed, crossing her arms over her chest. Bianca di Angelo was the most over-the-top woman Demetria ever had the pleasure of knowing. While it was heartwarming knowing her mother was so concerned, there were plenty of lines that were crossed during those discussions. For Demetria, she couldn't help but get a bit frustrated at times. She knew her mother meant well, but it was still annoying to get the same kinds of phone calls almost every day.

"Was that your mom again?" Rochelle called.*

"Yeah," Demetria answered.

Coming out of the bathroom, Rochelle looked at her friend with furrowed brows. "What was she calling about this time?" she asked.

"The same thing she's _always_ calling about," Demetria grumbled.

"The bug?" Rochelle's brows furrowed. Demetria nodded. "I wouldn't talk like that, Dee. That bug's been wrecking havoc for the past couple weeks."

"It's just some new flu or something, it's nothing to worry about."

"Not a single doctor knows where it came from, though. Doesn't that scare you?"

"No," Demetria sighed. "It'll go away on its own. These things happen sometimes."

Pulling her hair into a ponytail, Rochelle pursed her lips. "I don't know," she said. "This has been sticking around for a little _too_ long."

"It'll be gone, Rochelle," Demetria exclaimed, "trust me."

 **-0-0-0-0-**

Demetria's and Rochelle's friendship started over a year ago, after meeting at their college. Both women attended Juilliard, having moved to New York from different parts of the country to attend. For Demetria, traveling from Mississippi to New York was the biggest thing she'd ever done. For Rochelle, she lived in New Jersey. All she had to do was drive over. Regardless, both women met in their music classes, and became close friends almost immediately. They ended up getting an apartment together not long after.

"When's your recital again?" Demetria turned to look at Rochelle, her brows furrowing slightly. Both girls were in Juilliard's music program, getting their bachelor's degree in the subject.

"Two weeks from tomorrow," Rochelle answered, the statement quick and almost rehearsed. "Are you gonna be there?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I figured you were working."

"I've got Wednesdays off now."

" _Really_?" Rochelle sputtered. "Ethel let you take Wednesdays off?"

"I thought the exact same thing," Demetria chuckled. "She'd usually throw a fit if I even _thought_ about having a continual day off."

"That's an improvement," Rochelle said. "Ethel's really starting to lighten up."

"She really is."

The two girls walked in silence, observing the New York scenery. The two had lived in the city long enough to be unfazed by the city's dazzling atmosphere. The lights and noise no longer bothered them, the people didn't have the same level of intimidation they once had — everything felt better, more. . .like a home. For Demetria, she always had a dream to at least _try_ and experience city life, just to get the feel of it. She'd been brought up in a small town in Mississippi, she found it boring and uninspiring. Music had been Demetria's way of freely expressing herself. It made her feel as though her life wasn't so boring.

"We're gonna be graduating soon," Rochelle murmured, stuffing her hands into her pockets. "Isn't that weird?"

"It's definitely hard to think about," Demetria responded. "But we've worked hard to get here."

"I guess."*

"You don't think so?"

"I think I could've done a lot better."

With a shrug, Demetria let out a soft sigh. "We're doing what we can," she said. "You worked just as hard as me to get here, you deserve to graduate."

"Part of me still can't believe it," Rochelle said, chuckling humorlessly. "I'm finally going to get my _bachelor's_ degree!"

"Like I said, you worked hard to get here." Demetria gave her friend a supportive smile. She'd been there for Rochelle through thick and thin, witnessing several up and down moments in the young woman's academic career. It was a definite emotional roller-coaster. "You'll be done here in no time."

"What about you?" Rochelle asked. "Are you going to finish school here?"

"I don't know," Demetria said. "I'd like to get a master's degree here, but it's so expensive."

"I feel ya."

"I'm barely getting by with scholarships and student loans. Ethel's only having me work barely thirty hours, and with rent and everything. . ."

Nodding sympathetically, Rochelle rubbed Demetria's back in support. "No one said being an adult was easy," she stated. "I would've given _any_ thing for a handbook on how to be a functioning adult."

"That would've been _amazing_."

"But, in the meantime, the best we can do is wing it," Rochelle instructed. "That's how I think being a successful adult works."

Demetria only chuckled in response.

 **-0-0-0-0-**

Growing up in Mississippi was not an easy task for Demetria. She'd have to pretend life was normal, that she was happy and okay and no one should worry about her. Deep down, the then-young Demetria believed that not a single person cared either way. With her parents going through a nasty divorce and her mother's new boyfriend being a complete ass, the young girl felt as though life was just spiraling out of control. While life in that small Mississippi town was boring, life for Demetria behind closed doors was terrible.

Demetria di Angelo had to grow up with her parents' fighting. Scream matches, breaking things, throwing things, slamming doors and loud sobbing — nothing could ever be _quiet_ between the two parents. By the time Bianca chose to file for divorce, Demetria was already five and had a six month old baby sister. The divorce itself was long, messy, and scattered. Bianca ended up with sole custody, while the girls' father left the picture completely. Bianca's boyfriend became her second husband, and by the time Demetria turned eighteen, she moved out of the house. She would've given anything to take her sister with her, but she couldn't afford to do so.

In the end, the now-twenty four year old had minimal contact with her sister. Any contact Demetria _does_ have typically ends badly. As for Bianca, communication is random at best. It wasn't until the virus hit that she started talking more. Demetria's father was still very absent in her life, and her stepfather had no intentions of keeping in contact, either.

Demetria liked to think she did what she did for her own safety; her own well-being. Sure, it would've been nice to take her little sister along, but without a stable financial situation, and Bianca's obvious refusal, that couldn't happen. The sisters' relationship became strained as a result, which was heartbreaking. But Demetria was very thankful for the life she built for herself. Living with her parents and stepfather taught her how to survive, how to make the best out of any situation. New York was expensive, getting into Juilliard was hard, and finding a good job was nearly impossible for her. But she managed to get a decent apartment with a good roommate, she got into Juilliard and found a tolerable full-time job. It was better than nothing.

 **-0-0-0-0-**

Demetria's day out with Rochelle went nicely. The two had been planning a day together for months, wanting to celebrate their graduation a little early, minus all the drinking and partying. Both women were rather low-key in terms of how they celebrated their successes, so going out and getting drunk was something they found particularly unsatisfying. Instead, Demetria and Rochelle chose to go out to lunch and spend a bit of the day in Central Park. It was nice.

"You work tonight, right?" Rochelle asked. The two women made it back to their apartment, throwing their shoes and jackets on the ground by the door.

Sighing, Demetria nodded. "Yeah," she said. "Ethel has me working later shifts than usual."

"It's not really busy at night, is it?"

"No. Which is nice, but it sucks, too."

"At least the pay's decent," Rochelle said.

"Better than nothing."

"That's the important thing."

"I should probably get ready," Demetria sighed. "It was nice being able to hang out with you today."

"Yeah, I had a nice time, too."

* * *

 **(A/N):**

 **Sorry for the wait on this chapter, but hopefully you guys at least tolerate it. If you've got any constructive criticism, don't hesitate to let me know. I'll have this story take place a little bit before the virus really starts to kill everyone, so if you guys are patient enough to wait through that, I'd appreciate it.**

 **TWD does not belong to me. All I own are my OCs, my subplots, and the shoes I wear. If you've got ideas for OCs or subplots, be sure to PM me or leave a review. I'll add them in as soon as possible.**

 **Also, how many of you have seen the season 9 TWD trailer? For me, I haven't really enjoyed the show in a while. I was excited to see Negan at the end of season 7, but I felt the show kind of went downhill after that.* Season 8 wasn't very good, which was disappointing because I felt Jeffrey Dean Morgan had a lot of potential to play a good villain, but the show made him out to be. . . annoying rather than scary or intimidating. The season 9 trailer, though, didn't really excite me as much as I'd hoped. I've heard that the Whisperers are making an appearance, which could be okay, but this will also be Andrew Lincoln's last season.**

 **I don't know. I digress.**

 **Leave a random fact on anything you've learned recently, or something you've known about for a while.**

 **Thanks a bunch, guys.**

 **Georgia Dominguez**


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